


A Room with a View

by wede_fic (frahulettaes)



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Island (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-09
Updated: 2005-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frahulettaes/pseuds/wede_fic
Summary: Fic: A Room With A ViewNov. 11th, 2006 01:15 pmThis is The Island RPF Fic.Originally posted on Island_fic in 2005.Sean/EwanMy one and only fic in this fandom.Just playing with Sean and Ewan for a bit.
Relationships: Sean Bean/Ewan McGregor
Kudos: 1





	A Room with a View

If there was one good thing you could say about L.A., it was that the views could be fantastic. One whole side of Sean's place in Manhattan Beach was a window, filled with sand, sky and the Pacific Ocean. Well, that and the food was terrific and nearly all the good places delivered.

He and Ewan sat on the deck in great long lounge chairs, wearing sunglasses, drinking beer, well he was anyway and generally enjoying a Saturday evening. And the view was fantastic. Really.

"God, the view is fantastic." He said, for maybe the fourth time in the last hour. Ewan was quiet but Sean could just see the edge of his mouth turn up. Sexy bastard. And perhaps that had something to do with the view comments. Sean cursed himself for being such a wanker.

It didn't help that Ewan wore those jeans with a rise so low, he wondered how they stayed on his ass. Or the little t-shirt, white with a weird logo, that rode up when he slouched down on the lounge chair. Or that they let him keep his chest and belly hair. Hair that he could just make out between the break of his shirt and jeans.

Sean made a little inward groan and resettle his shirt over the ridge of cock growing in his too tight pants.

As an experiment, this had been a spectacular failure. It started out as a, 'we can hang out, sure, no problem' and had turned quickly into a, 'fucking hell, if he doesn't get out of here, I'm going to commit illegal acts upon him, repeatedly, to both our satisfaction'. Only that was the point. It wasn't both. It was just his. At the moment.

And how naïve was he being? Ewan was fantastically good at reading people. Even the smallest gestures didn't escape his notice. So all his dissembling over the past hour was, of a certainty, not hiding anything. But the bastard was still here. Still calmly drinking his, what-ever-it-was soda and smiling that smug, 'I so got you' grin of his. Bastard. Bastard, bastard, sexy as fuck, bastard. And could he just add, BASTARD?

Ewan set his drink on the deck chair arm and laid his hand on his belly, just covering the small channel of skin above his jeans. Perhaps it was just an unconscious gesture. Or maybe it was a warning shot across the bow. But a moment later, his fingers slipped under the edge of his jeans, not far, just a few inches. But in those jeans, a few inches was quite far enough.

Fucking. Hell.

It seemed the little bastard had learned subtly. He wondered idly who he had to thank for that and if the gossip about Liam were true.

Well, he'd learned a bit about subtlety himself over the years. And what he was about to do was not subtle at all. Not by a long stretch.

The look on Ewan's face was priceless when Sean grabbed him by the shirt front and dragged him into the house. Sean walked backwards, tongue in Ewan's mouth, hands scrabbling at the big, too-long leather belt holding up those jeans.

And, Jesus Christ, he tasted fantastic. And he smelled good too.

But that mouth. That fucking fantastic mouth of his, kissing him, working at him, devouring him. Wet, openmouthed, tongue fucking kisses that made Sean think seriously about proposing marriage. And then made him think about nothing at all but getting the sexy bastard flat on a surface and fucking the living daylights out of him.

The backs of his legs hit the edge of the very large, very off-white, very L.A. sofa and he fell backwards, hands full of Ewan's shirt, mouth chewing hungrily at Ewan's, landing with a soft umph.

And then it was all tugging and pulling, unbuttoning, panting, squirming to get more skin, to feel more. It was fantastic. Ewan fucked with the same intensity that he did everything. All out, full on, in the moment, fucking. Fucking with a capital F. And Sean couldn't be more delighted.

He managed to wiggle them around so Ewan was beneath him, not a small accomplishment, sort of like boating a Marlin. But he was quite pleased with the results. Ewan's thighs parted easily, and he reached one hand for a condom and lube from the heavy, faux Spanish coffee table.

Ewan had a hold of his cock, both hands, one below the other, stroking him, while he made to put the condom on. He was just ripping the wrapper with his teeth when Ewan said the first coherent thing in the last ten minutes.

"What makes you think," he made a moaning gasp that broke up his sentence, "you're gonna need that?" And he smiled that truly evil, sexy as fuck, smile of his and reached for the condom. Sean got there first and held it away from Ewan's grasping fingers. Ewan's other hand was still on his cock, a fact made more salient by the tightening of those agile fingers.

"I'm going to need this," he held the condom up, temptingly close. "to fuck that gorgeous ass of yours, wanker." He finished with a little laugh.

Ewan laughed too.

"No, you're not. Give it here." Ewan laughed again and they struggled each to get the condom only half way through, Ewan leaned off the sofa and pulled the drawer full of supplies right out of the table, it's contents spewing across the rug. Which sent them both into fresh laughter.

Sean tried getting Ewan back under him and they ended up rolling off the sofa and onto the very large, very off-white rug.

"Dammit, I'm going to get rug burn." Ewan snorted more laughter.

"Indeed, yes you are, now hold still, daft bugger." Sean managed to pin Ewan's wrists with one hand and used his knee to part Ewan's thighs. He kissed Ewan again, first to distract him but then because it made him so hot. Ewan was a fucking great kisser.

And then the condom was on and he was flipping the tube of K-Y open and Ewan arched his back when Sean's cock breached him. Bloody hell. It was so good. Ewan made a sort of squeezing noise and collapsed back to the rug, hands tugging frantically at Sean's hips.

"Fucking hell," Sean said. At the moment, only expletives seemed appropriate so that's what he said. Ewan said some of the same ones and some new one's more colorful than Sean's and some very creative ones as well.

Sean hooked one of Ewan's legs over his arm and leaned into him, changing the angle and making Ewan shout.

"Oh, fuck, yeah, right there, Sean, fucking hell, yeah," Ewan said.

Words that drove straight down Sean's spine and into his balls. God this felt good. Sean drove into Ewan, pounded, pushing him with every stroke a few more inches along the rug. Ewan's hands still scrabbled at Sean's hips, he curled, head lifted up to watch their joined bodies then fell back, swearing and sweating.

Sean could feel his climax mounting. Sweat now poured off them both and the slide of skin drove him barreling towards it with astonishing speed. He reared up, head back, and drove helplessly into Ewan his finish, breathing heavily.

Ewan's heels dug into his thighs and he drove himself onto Sean's cock, chasing his own climax relentlessly. Sean pulled his still hard cock from Ewan's ass and bent over him, taking as much of the thick length as he could into his mouth and sucked it hard. One hand closed around the tightened sacs and the other folded into itself and shoved four fingers into the loosened opening, curling upward, seeking the nub of flesh he knew would make it good.

Ewan's back arched again, his fingers dug into Sean's arms as he tried to take in all the overwhelming stimulation. His orgasm came with a shout and rapid, pulsing thrusts of his hips, driving his sex into Sean's mouth. Sean hummed around the straining shaft, squeezed a little on Ewan's balls and made a few more thrusts into his ass before releasing Ewan into a gasping heap.

Ewan slung an arm over his eyes, blotting out the very off-white ceiling and the dimming light from the setting sun.

"Bloody hell." Ewan said finally.

Sean rolled to his back and drew Ewan's legs over his own. They lay like that for a while, the light slowly dying, sweat cooling, not saying anything.

Sometime later, Sean rolled to sitting and, dumping Ewan's legs, crawled up beside him.  
Ewan met him with a satisfied smile, one with a little quirk in it.

"Next time, you bastard, I get the condom." Ewan said. And he smiled a very different smile. One that made Sean's chest feel a little strange. Christ on a crutch.

"Yeah, alright." He murmured then kissed Ewan gently and stroked a hand across his short hair. "Pushy bastard."


End file.
